Return to Sender
by AquilaMage
Summary: In which Dahlia's chosen prey is unfortunately much less receptive to her charms. ("DL-6 never happened" AU)


This is the result of me thinking out the ways in which various aa cases might have turned out in a universe where Gregory isn't murdered, Miles becomes a defense attorney, and Phoenix doesn't. And when I thought about Turnabout Memories-related events, I got stuck thinking "well unless there was some other guy Dahlia's age studying there- Wait."  
So here is my mind's most logical conclusion, fueled purely by "oh this is going to be hilarious"

* * *

Dahlia's steps clicked to a perfectly measured pace as she wove her way through the bowels of the courthouse. The purposeful lightness of her movements only did so much to mask the natural bold confidence with which she made them, but she had long since learned the sickly-sweet smile that would melt all but the hardest hearts to distraction. She ran through her mental map of the area, pulling her shawl back up on her shoulders as she peered through the doorway into the law library.

For the briefest of seconds, her sunny demeanor froze over as she beheld the emptiness of the main lounge area. Of course. In another life perhaps there would have been some overly optimistic young law student, naïve enough to think that someone like her would be enamored with him to accept her without question. She could complete her task unhurried and with all the delicacy she normally preferred to devote to such things. Instead, she cursed her more fortunate self and strode through the doorway to scan the further reaches of the library.

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Miles Edgeworth stretched in his seat, the sound of his joints popping barely cutting through the stifling quiet of the corner of the library that he'd squirreled himself away into. How long had he been here anyway? A few hours? A hand went to rifle through his bag, but he halted partway though unzipping the pocket. If he checked the time now, he'd have no excuse for ignoring the half-dozen messages from his father suggesting that he come back to the offices for lunch, the gentle lecture for him not to push himself, there was no desperate need for him to earn his badge the little sooner this would get him, especially considering how young he was already. Not that Miles didn't appreciate the concern, but it was a reminder that he could practically recite by now, and it wasn't as if he minded all the studying.

And that wasn't even mentioning the strange jokes he would receive from his father's assistant. (He'd long lost count of how many times he'd asked Mr. Shields to be more professional now that Miles was shadowing at the office, at least during work hours, and had received comments to the effect of "Miles, I've known you since you were nine. The fact that we're working together now just means I get to have _more_ fun harassing you." Miles didn't know what dictionary he had gotten his definition of fun from, but clearly he needed a new edition.)

And then, of course, there was Phoenix. Even if his boyfriend did have class (it was Wednesday, he had multiple classes and rehearsal today), he always seemed to have time to send some ridiculously endearing message. Or seven No. Miles definitely did not have time for the inevitable debate about whatever ridiculous topic of the day that would ensue whenever the two of them were in contact for more than a few minutes, no matter how enjoyable it might be.

Instead, Miles rubbed at his eyes for what was at least the third time today. After a token effort to smooth down his bangs, he shook his head and turned back to the open volume in front of him. If he could finish this soon, he'd be willing to break for a late lunch.

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Of course, things were never that simple for him. A scant few minutes later, his concentration was disturbed by the nagging feeling that he was being watched. Before he could turn around to check, the answer to his question appeared from behind a shelf.

A young woman with the most gracefully innocent face he had ever seen was now bearing down on him, head down and shoulders pulled back ever so slightly, but her eyes, wide and glistening, kept fixed on him the entire time.

Miles had just regained enough coherency of mind to begin to string together a response by the time she had come to a stop at his side. Unfortunately, before he could actually get to asking if she needed assistance, the slight downturn of her mouth blossomed into a smile and she leaned in towards him.

"…!?" It took a great deal of self-restraint for him not to flinch away at the sensation of hands ghosting over the back of his neck, his muscles tensing automatically from having a stranger so close. Everything froze to standstill, and he felt as though he could track every slightest brush of her arm against his skin. He only noticed the death grip his hands had on the sides of his chair when the sudden sensation of cold metal dropped onto his neck and he let go involuntarily.

The woman said something to him, sounding far-off and half-muffled, as if being heard from underwater. By the time he was able to shift his focus to her, she was back to half-hovering over the desk, clutching her wrap around her with one hand and biting her lip. Another of those soft smiles broke out on her face. "It suits you, you know," she murmured, then burst into bubbly giggles.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Miles faintly registered that he should be saying something right now, but it seemed his mouth was still as frozen up as the rest of him for the moment.

"I have to go now" She frowned, almost a pout. "But I'll see you later, okay?" Taking a few steps backward, she blew a kiss and finally turned on her heel with a final wink and a "see you, boyfriend."

Wait, what?

 _That_ was finally enough to shake Miles out of his daze. He started out of his chair, banging the top of his legs against the desk in his haste. The aisle the woman had disappeared down was empty. And so too, it seemed, was the rest of the library area. Her disappearance had been so abrupt that it was as if she had simply vanished into thin air. In fact, Miles had almost convinced himself that the entire thing had been an exhaustion-induced dream and that maybe he really should be taking his father's advice more to heart than he was, until he had returned to collect his belongings. As he knelt down, something made contact against the side of his leg. A hand against his chest registered the pendant sitting there. It was just smaller than his palm, cut glass accented with metal to form the shape of a heart.

Miles closed his hand around it, as if removing it from his sight would also remove it physically. He gave a long, heavy sigh, and buried his head in his free hand.

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"…Are you quite finished yet?" Miles's normally piercing glare was dampened by his blush and the defensive set of his shoulders as he watched the man across from him.

"No," Ray finally choked out, still half bent over with laughter. "This is definitely the best thing that's happened all month. Too bad I wasn't there to actually see it."

His mouth flattened into a line, he raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. You likely would have frightened her off, and this entire mess could have been averted."

That shook him out of it. "Hey now," he said, hands up in front of him as he leaned back to half-sit on the edge of the desk.

"Well, I think it was cute." Phoenix scooted over on the couch to be right next to him, placing a hand on his leg for moral support.

Miles turned with the intent of levelling his glare onto his boyfriend, but the utter sincerity of the warmth with which the statement had been delivered, combined with the slightly distant look he had on now made it difficult to maintain concentration. Instead, he settled for narrowing his eyes at him, only the slightest upward twitch of the mouth getting past his guard.

"I mean, think about it," he murmured, almost to himself. "A fateful meeting. Seeing someone for the first time ever but knowing that you have a connection. Exchanging a token of affection before departing…" He sighed and leaned into Miles's side, head fitting into the crook of his shoulder.

Ray barked out a laugh. "Yeah this is right up Nicky boy's alley, huh?" He raised an eyebrow at the two of them. "It's a good thing he wasn't there and single, of else he'd be shouting from the rooftops trying to find the mystery woman's name by now."

A blush spread out on his face. "I wouldn't do _that_!"

"Really now?" He crossed his arms, sliding into an easy slouch, although his eyes were brighter than ever. "I seem to recall three incidents in as many weeks of a certain college student bursting into our offices reciting declarations of love, with no regard for whether there might be clients or others present to witness or not." Ignoring the way Miles now had both hands over his face, leaning over the arm of the couch on his side opposite of Phoenix, he held a hand palm up and shrugged. "Same thing."

"I was practicing!"

He gave a Look. " _Sure._ _Only_ romantic-type scenes, _only_ when you think Miles is around."

Phoenix deflated. "I guess you have a point…" he said, but grinned moments later. "But it's not my fault I'm inspired so!"

Without even looking over from his position, Miles elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Sentimental fool," he said, but the words had no bite to them.

In the echoes of the ensuing laughter, another voice drifted into the room.

"And here I thought I'd given you enough time to settle down." Gregory Edgeworth stood in the doorway, an expression of fond amusement on his face.

Miles sputtered and rushed to settle back into a sitting position where he appeared presentable, while the other two made no such efforts. Tugging the edges of his sleeves, he huffed. "I would have hoped as well, but it seems that little can be done about it." An attempt was made at a subtle glare in their direction, which went quite ignored.

His father gave an inaudible laugh. "Speaking of, have we figured out how to address the problem of letting our young lady down gently?"

"Given that I don't even know her name or even the slightest clue to finding her, my thought was to ask around the courthouse. It is likely that someone there would know her, so that would at least be a start." He shrugged, then leaned over to pick up the necklace from where it lay on the table. "This should be distinct enough for someone to recognize it, considering she was wearing it before she gave it to me." A sigh. "If nothing else, I can simply leave it with courthouse security."


End file.
